


Constant Cravings

by givebackmylifecas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Case Fic, Castiel (Supernatural) Needs a Hug, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Pining Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 15:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18831082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givebackmylifecas/pseuds/givebackmylifecas
Summary: "Castiel is torn. On the one hand, he is glad that Dean trusts him, that he wants to give him time to heal. But on the other he wants Dean to know how much he hurts, wants him to know how much he hates every moment of his existence as a human. How all he dreams of is Dean taking him in his arms and telling him that he’s going to be okay, that he can help put Cas back together. But that’s selfish. Dean doesn’t deserve to be burdened like this, doesn’t deserve to be dragged down by Castiel, shouldn’t have to settle for someone as broken as him. So he just nods."Castiel used his grace to lock away the Darkness, nearly killing himself in the process. Now human, he struggles to adapt to life in the bunker and the Winchesters aren't as attentive as they should be. Castiel isn't sure how to cope with his new emotions and feelings, all he knows is he longs for things (and people) that he can't have. When a case comes their way that looks a lot like something they've had to deal with before, everyone's deepest, darkest desires will be revealed.





	1. Here beneath my skin

**Author's Note:**

> So this is set after Season 11, except instead of the whole soul bomb thing, Cas is the one who locks away the darkness with his grace. Mary doesn't return and Charlie is still alive because that's how I like her.
> 
> Basic trigger warnings for drug misuse, panic attacks, depression, and terrible coping mechanisms apply. I'll add more as the story develops or if you guys think there are any missing.
> 
> Fic title is from the k.d. lang song "Constant Craving"

Dean had once told him that when humans want something really badly, they lie. Over the years, Dean had given him plenty of advice but for some reason, this had really stuck with Castiel. What was most surprising about Cas taking Dean's advice though, was that for someone who was so very good at lying himself, Dean was really quite bad at telling when other people were lying to him. For example, he believed Sam every time he said he was going off to “the library”, when Castiel knows for a fact that he’s really spending time with Eileen. And he always, always believed Castiel – no matter how many lies the ex-angel told him. The one Castiel had become most adept at telling consisted of just three simple words. “I am fine.” he says whenever Dean asks him if he’s alright. “I’m fine.” he tells Dean when he tells Cas to eat more. “I’m fine.” he tells himself in the dead of night as he wakes from nightmares, muffling his screams with his pillows so Sam and Dean won’t wake. “I’m fine.” he sobs in the shower when he uses the hot water in an attempt to ease the phantom pain in his shoulders where his wings used to be.

“I’m fine, I promise.” he wheezes when he is caught off guard by a ghost and thrown against a wall hard enough that he can hear several of his ribs crack. Dean scowls, brandishing an iron crowbar to fend off the ghost as it comes flying towards them, just before it goes up in flames.

“Are you okay?”, Sam asks as he comes sprinting over to them, a bottle of lighter fluid still clutched in one hand.

Cas nods and Dean rolls his eyes. “Course he’s not fucking fine, he needs a doctor.”

The brothers share one of those looks that holds an entire conversation in it and then Dean is clenching his jaw and stalking over to the Impala, while Sam carefully helps Cas to his feet.

The only time it might not be a lie is when Dean drives him home from the hospital, his handsome face scrunched up in concern as he looks over at Castiel, who is half out of his mind on the pain meds the ER doctor had prescribed him to help with his ribs. “‘M fine Dean.” he slurs – and for the first time since he fell, he really does feel fine. His shoulders no longer ache with the pain of the wings that he lost, his head isn’t deafeningly silent due to the absence of his siblings voices. He feels like he’s floating. He laughs and Dean throws him another concerned look, but doesn’t say anything.

That night, back in his own room in the bunker, Cas takes more of the pills and for the first time in months he doesn’t wake up screaming. He sleeps right through the night and when he wakes up the next day, the first thing he does is reach for the painkillers he was given. He tells himself it’s to help with his ribs – they really do hurt, make it hard to breathe – but truthfully he could live with the pain. What he can’t give up is the numbness that spreads through him the minute the pills begin to work. As an angel, Castiel felt things, of course he did. But being human – that’s something else entirely. He’s constantly feeling emotions he barely has names for and there’s so many other things to be aware of too, like being tired and hungry and needing to pee. Then there’s this… longing. He wants all the time. Wants to eat, or sleep, or be useful, or just not be worried. And above all those cravings, there’s what he really wants. Which is to have a family again, to be fully accepted by the Winchesters, to be loved. To be loved by one of the brothers in particular. He’s never felt anything like the way his hands ache and his stomach twists when he looks at Dean. As an angel, he had known he shared a bond with Dean, but that was nothing in comparison to the way he feels now - like there’s a fishhook anchored in his guts that’s being used to tug him towards Dean. He’s lost count of how many times he’s stopped himself from reaching out to touch the hunter, how many times he’s excused himself from restaurants and bars because Dean is flirting with a pretty waitress or bartender and it makes his chest twinge and his hands shake. He thinks Sam might know – or at least suspect – because he’ll sometimes follow Cas outside and talk to him about the case or something he saw on TV recently in a weak effort to distract him. When Dean inevitably swaggers back to the motel with a pleased grin on his face or lipstick on his collar, Sam will throw Cas a sympathetic look that makes his ears burn with shame and cause Dean to ask them why they look like they’ve swallowed acid. Add on top of that all the guilt and regrets that cause him to see his dead siblings wherever he goes, it means that so far, his time as a human has been a special kind of torment. Except that when he takes the pills, it isn’t anymore.

He spends the next few weeks happy – it takes him a while to figure out that this is what that feeling is, he’s happy – no longer plagued by his regrets and the stabbing pain that never seemed to leave him. He shuffles about the bunker, listening to Dean’s off key singing and Sam’s rants about proper book organisation without that fishhook always tugging on him, and feels like maybe he could live the rest of his life like this.

Then the pills run out.

At first he thinks maybe they cured him, his ribs certainly don’t hurt as much anymore and his head feels pleasantly clear. But then the nightmares return worse than ever, and Cas spends the night on his knees, heaving over a toilet, praying to a God he knows isn’t listening to give him some of the numbness back. He starts lying again. When Sam tells him he should eat more, he says he had a snack too close to dinner instead of saying the pain in his shoulders makes him nauseous. When Dean asks him if he wants to come on a beer run, he says that he’s too caught up in his latest Netflix binge, when really that fishhook is back and tearing him apart in its effort to get him to Dean.

He lasts six harrowing days without the pills before he figures out how to forge prescriptions. It’s not hard. Sam has all the materials for it in the room where he makes their IDs and Castiel used to be a celestial being after all – not to mention the fact that Charlie long ago created records of a fake doctor’s surgery and insurance company for if one of them got sick.

He’s shaking in anticipation by the time he gets to the nearest chemist. The pharmacist is a young girl who looks barely out of high school, let alone old enough to be dispensing opioids, but she’s sympathetic when Cas tells her of his chronic back pain and is happy enough to put his prescription on file for the next six months, so he can just stop by and get his next dose of pills every four weeks.

He wants the pills so badly, but he knows enough to not take them before driving. The minute he parks his car back in the bunker’s garage, Cas is dry-swallowing two of the little white tablets and relaxing back into his seat as he feels the wave of numbness slowly wash over him. He must drop off for a little while because next thing he knows he’s being woken by Dean knocking on the car window. He jolts upright, blinking at the hunter in confusion. He offers him a weak smile and then Dean is opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat. Cas shifts a little, making sure his coat covers the new bottle of pills.

“Hello Dean.” He says quietly and the hunter flashes him an uneasy smile. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else – Sam probably sent him.

“Hey buddy.” Dean says with a stoic nod. When the hunter doesn’t say anymore, Cas frowns but decides to just wait it out – that’s usually the best course of action with Dean. Sure enough, after seven and a half minutes of excruciating silence and Dean opening and closing his mouth several times, he finally speaks. “Look Cas, you’re like our brother, you know that right?” Cas swallows the disappointment at once again being relegated to the rank of family and nods. Dean looks visibly relieved at his agreement. “Right. Good. So… you’re okay?”

Cas sighs. “I’m fine, Dean.”

Dean’s brow furrows and he nods. “And you’d tell me or Sam if you weren’t, right? Just cause Sammy said that you seemed off lately.”

“Oh Sam said so, but you don’t agree?” Cas doesn’t know why he asked that, but he doesn’t regret it as much as he would if he were sober.

He can see the way Dean’s shoulders tense, unsure whether Cas is accusing him of something. “I think,” Dean says carefully. “That falling – becoming human – might take some getting used to. So it’s normal if you need some time. I think Sam just worries too much.”

Castiel is torn. On the one hand, he is glad that Dean trusts him, that he wants to give him time to heal. But on the other he wants Dean to know how much he hurts, wants him to know how much he hates every moment of his existence as a human. How all he dreams of is Dean taking him in his arms and telling him that he’s going to be okay, that he can help put Cas back together. But that’s selfish. Dean doesn’t deserve to be burdened like this, doesn’t deserve to be dragged down by Castiel, shouldn’t have to settle for someone as broken as him. So he just nods.

“Thank you, Dean. You’re right. I’m just… having some trouble adjusting.”

“Well, we’re here for you buddy. You can talk to us – or well maybe Sammy would be better. He's the one who's always wanting to have chick-flic moments.” Dean grins and Cas forces a smile.

“Right. Thanks Dean.”

“Anytime, buddy.” And then he’s sliding out of the car, rambling about dinner and would Cas be up for burgers. Cas mutters an affirmative and says he’ll be in in a minute.

When Dean is gone, Cas groans, leaning forward so that his head is pressed against the steering wheel. Even with the pills he’s taken, being this close to Dean has set him on edge. He can feel his hands shaking and his breathing becoming uneven because he still doesn’t know how to deal with the emotions the hunter makes him feel. Last time he was human, just staying alive was overwhelming enough, now that he doesn’t have to worry where his next meal is coming from he’s drowning in the emotions he was never taught how to handle. Angels weren’t meant for this and there was always something wrong with him - after all, enough of his brothers and sisters had told him so in the past. He wipes away the tears that are threatening to spill and pulls the pill bottle out from under his coat. He considers it for a moment, before popping the lid off and dry swallowing another pill. He really doesn’t want to have to sit through dinner with the Winchesters but since he has no choice, maybe he’ll at least be able to get through it in a comfortable haze without the constant cravings for things he can never have mangling his insides.

He takes another few minutes to make sure the pills are actually working before stumbling through the garage and into the kitchen. He slumps into a chair at the table just as Dean shoves a plate with an obscenely large burger and thick, homemade fries in front of him.

Sam barely looks up from his laptop when a similar burger is put in front of him – although this one has a side of salad, and a lot less cheese and bacon.

“Hey Sammy, you think you might want to put that away?” Dean asks, sounding for all the world like a disapproving mother and Sam sighs, shutting his laptop.

“Yeah, sorry. I just – Eileen thinks she’s found a case.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Oh really, what kind of case?”

“I don’t know yet. People in this little town in Washington have been acting weird. A woman died after gorging herself on blue cheese, and another guy impaled himself on a fence in an attempt to stroke a jaguar at the zoo. And those are just the deaths. Twenty people have ended up in hospital in the last three days, because they couldn’t ‘help themselves’ from doing dangerous stuff.”

Cas picks at his food as Dean scowls. “Fucking witches man.”

Sam shakes his head. “I mean maybe, but it would have to be a pretty strong witch to affect the whole town like that.”

Cas really can’t concentrate on what they’re saying, his head feels like it’s been wrapped in cotton wool and he just wants to go and sleep. He loses time thinking about how soft his pillows will feel when he can finally crawl into bed.

“Cas, are you listening?” Dean asks brusquely, jerking him from his reverie.

He looks up from his uneaten burger, but he has trouble focussing his eyes. “Sorry what was that, Dean?”

“We’re going to leave for Washington tomorrow, to lend Eileen a hand. You okay with that?” Sam asks as Dean frowns at him.

Cas nods. “Oh. Sure. I’ll go pack.” He says, getting to his feet. At least now he has an excuse to go and lie down.

“You haven’t eaten anything.” Dean says, sounding annoyed.

Cas nods, trying to school his expression into one of guilt. “Sorry, I’m just so tired. Not really hungry. Thank you for your efforts in preparing dinner though.”

Dean just blinks. “Um sure, Cas. Why don’t you go get some rest? We’ll leave first thing tomorrow.”

Cas gives the brothers a hazy smile and shuffles from the kitchen.

The minute he gets to his room, he kicks off his shoes and collapses onto his bed where sleep almost immediately pulls him under.


	2. Been aching for too long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs for drug abuse, nightmares, self-worth issues  
> The chapter title is from the McFly song "She falls asleep"

Castiel hates the way Dean looks at him now. He knows he no longer holds the power he once did, he knows he could barely keep his eyes open during breakfast, he knows he fell asleep almost as soon as they hit the road and didn’t wake up until they stop for lunch at a generic looking diner, but that doesn’t mean Dean needs to look at him like that. Like a pathetic sort of puzzle that he could solve if he wanted to, but doesn’t really want to put the effort into.

Cas wants to yell at him to just stop glancing at him in the rear-view mirror, to ask whatever question he seems to so desperately want to ask the former angel. Maybe he would say something if the pills weren’t working so well, weren’t keeping him on just the right side of apathy – he took a couple more than usual that morning in preparation for having to spend the whole day locked in a car with Dean.

When they eventually stop for the night at a motel on the outskirts of Billings, Montana Castiel admits that he may have overdone it a little on the pills – especially since he couldn’t stomach more than a handful of fries for lunch. He staggers out of the car behind Sam, and follows the brothers into small office.

The man behind the desk has an extreme amount of acne scarring that Castiel would have offered to heal if he still had his grace, and nicotine stained fingers.

“We’d like a couple of rooms.” Sam says, a friendly smile on his face.

The man snorts. “Not likely what with the festival in town. I’m assuming you boys are just passing through? You don’t look the type to be interested in wine.”

Dean scowls. “Yeah, we’re just passing through. Do you have rooms or not?”

“You’re in luck.” The man says in a tone of voice that makes Cas think they might not be lucky at all. “I’ve got one left. There’s two beds and a sofa in there. It should be alright for one of you to sleep on… unless you want to share one of the beds of course.” He finishes with a predatory leer that is directed at Castiel and would makes his hair stand on end, if he weren’t focussing so hard on staying upright.

“We’ll take it.” Sam says quickly, handing the man his credit card as Dean snatches the key off the counter.

Cas stumbles after Dean as he stalks through the parking lot and towards their room. Dean seems to unlock the door with a little more force than necessary and Cas tries to stay out of his way as he storms back out to get their bags from the car.

The room is grotty, even for Winchester standards, and Cas sighs as he looks at what the motel manager had optimistically called a couch, but in reality, looks more like an extra-wide armchair. He shrugs out of his coat as Sam and Dean enter the room, Dean looking like he’d just been force-fed fish oil. Sam raises his eyebrows when he catches sight of the armchair, but doesn’t say anything as he sits down on one of the beds. Since Dean has just dumped his worn bag on the other bed, Cas takes this to mean that he will have to take the armchair. He supposes it’s only right, he is the newest and least useful member of their little team – and he did sleep in the car for most of the day.

Sam tosses Castiel the sandwich he’d picked out for his dinner the last time they’d stopped for gas, opening his own boxed salad. “So.” He says around a mouthful of lettuce. “How do we want to do things tonight?”

Dean frowns at his brother. “What do you mean?”

“Well it’s obvious none of us are going to fit on that sad excuse for a sofa. So we’ll just have to double up.”

Dean groans and Cas feels his hands start to shake at the hunter's obvious annoyance. He takes a bite of his sandwich that has somehow managed to be both dry and soggy so that he doesn’t have to speak.

“Sam look at these beds, they’re kind of narrow and so short that you’ll have to lie diagonally to fit. They’re not exactly made for sharing.” Dean gripes.

Sam sends him a glare that makes Cas’ stomach twist. Dean is right, the beds aren’t the biggest, but there would still be enough room for two of them to share, especially if Sam wasn’t the one sharing. But he knows it would be a lot to ask for Dean to share with someone like him, someone so clearly unappealing to the hunter. Sam and Dean have started arguing in earnest now and Cas can’t stand to be the cause, so he picks up his coat and starts walking towards the door.

“Cas, where are you going?” Dean asks, an untrusting edge to his voice that makes Cas’ chest ache.

He swallows the last bite of his sandwich and turns back to look at the Winchesters. Sam looks worried, a little crease has formed between his eyebrows. Dean looks angry, but also kind of… concerned? Cas doesn’t know why, but he decides that maybe he should just explain so they can go to bed.

“Oh. I was just, um, I thought I should go sleep in the car. That way you don’t have to argue about the sleeping situation.” Cas says, not quite understanding why the brothers looks so shocked.

Sam gets off the bed and takes a step towards him. “Cas you can’t sleep outside, it’s cold.”

Cas shrugs. “I’ve slept in worse places, honestly it’s fine.”

“Cas, no. That’s not necessary, we’ll figure it out. Or make do. Right Dean?” Sam insists, looking at his brother for support.

To his credit, Sam actually looks surprised when Dean just shrugs. “If that’s what he wants to do, Sammy.”

Cas understands. It must be easier for Dean to bear his presence if he doesn’t have to spend all his time with him. After all, what use is a broken tool that is always around even after it has outlived its usefulness. He nods and picks up the car keys from the table Dean had dropped them on.

As he heads out of the door he hears Sam start yelling something, but he doesn’t want to cause any more trouble so he slips out of the room and into the cool night air as quickly and quietly as possible.

He slides into the backseat of the Impala, shivering a little. Sam was right, it is cold tonight, but there’s a blanket in the footwell that he knows Dean uses when he has to spend the night on the side of the road. Cas pillows his head on his arms, settling under the blanket that smells too much like the hunter. He knows Dean is just doing what anyone would do when burdened by a dead weight like Castiel, but a part of him wishes the hunter had fought a little harder, had offered to share his bed with Cas.

He feels traitorous tears stinging his eyes and feels around in his coat pocket for his bottle of pills. He dry-swallows another two, but can’t bring himself to put the container away again. Instead, he clutches it like a safety blanket.

Eventually, the haze of numbness works enough to let him sleep.

 

He wakes to someone rapping on the window. He jerks awake, his days on the streets coming back to him suddenly. It’s still dark outside and he didn’t think the Winchesters would want to leave this early. He squints through the window and sees Sam, standing there in his pyjamas, suddenly looking very young with his tired eyes and tousled hair.

Cas leans forward and unlocks the door, letting Sam climb in to sit beside him.

“Hello Sam.” He says quietly.

Sam gives him a wry smile. “Hey Cas, sorry for waking you.”

Cas shakes his head. “No it’s alright, is everything okay?”

“Yes. No. Well, I just. I wanted to apologise.”

Cas blinks. “Apologise? For what?”

Sam sighs. “For letting you – no, for making you sleep out here. You already slept rough once, the first time you were human, you shouldn’t have to do it again.”

“It isn’t so bad. The Impala is warmer than sleeping under a bridge.” Cas says with a shrug.

Sam winces, but shakes his head. “No, it’s still not right. Come inside and share with me.”

Cas frowns. “Are you sure there’s enough room? Dean didn’t seem to think so.”

“Dean is… Dean’s an idiot, just ignore most of what he says, alright?”

“Okay?”

Sam grins. “Okay, now come on, let’s get you inside. It’ll be a squeeze, but at least it’ll be softer than these seats – warmer too.”

Cas decides not to put up too much of a fight since Sam seems so determined. He slides out of Baby after Sam, only noticing when he swings his legs out of the car and it goes clattering to the ground that he is no longer holding his pills.

“Oh, here.” Sam says, grabbing the bottle and holding it out to Cas. Cas takes it perhaps a little too quickly, because Sam frowns. “Did you get a new prescription.”

Cas thinks quickly - it wouldn’t do to tell Sam of his weakness. “No, I, um. I never finished these. I tried not to take them too often.”

Sam sighs. “Cas, these were to help you with your pain. You should’ve taken all of them.”

Cas looks at his feet guiltily, but Sam just claps him on the back. “Hey, c’mon. It’s not that big a deal. Let’s just go to bed, alright? We’ll have to be quiet though, Dean’s already asleep.”

Cas follows Sam back into the room, where sure enough, Dean is sprawled across one of the beds, snoring softly. Sam kicks off his shoes and climbs into his bed, holding the covers open for Cas to crawl in too.

Cas does, trying to lie as close to the edge as possible, not a hard thing to do with how little space there is. It is blisteringly warm in comparison to the Impala, but he finds Sam’s presence beside him comforting. Their legs are pressed together and Cas can feel little puffs of air in his hair when Sam exhales, but it makes him feel more relaxed than he has in a while. He knows his pills have started to wear off – they’ve been doing that faster and faster lately – but he doesn’t dare take any more with Sam lying there next to him. He feels comfortable enough to hope that he’ll sleep through without them.

 

He dreams of hell. He dreams of battling his way through demons and monsters, only to find that the righteous man he had been sent for was already gone. Saved by someone more worthy. His wings feel like they’re burning and he screams as he is forced onto the rack and Alistair picks up his scalpel. He knows he has failed, that he deserves this punishment, but it hurts all the same. He promises himself that he won’t scream. He breaks that promise and then –

 

He is woken by Sam for the second time that night. The younger Winchester’s eyes are wide with worry, his huge hands wrapped around Cas’ biceps.

“Cas, are you okay? You were crying out.”

Cas nods, gulping in huge lungfuls of cool air in an attempt to calm himself.

Sam doesn’t seem convinced, rubbing his hands up and down Cas’ arms and making soft hushing noises. “It’s alright, you’re okay. It was just a dream. You’re safe.” Cas nods frantically, desperately wanting to believe him. “That’s it, Cas, just breathe. That’s it. You’re okay.”

Eventually, Cas manages to calm himself enough to lie down again. Sam does too, but he doesn’t let go of Cas.

“I’m sorry.” Cas whispers.

“None of that.” Sam says softly. “Everyone gets nightmares, I think it’s a sign of being a Winchester.” Cas offers him a weak smile, his insides twisting with embarrassment. Sam just smiles back. “Think you can sleep again?”

Cas nods, but he must not be terribly convincing, because Sam reaches out pulls Cas back against his chest. “Dean used to do this for me when I was younger. Even a couple of times when I wasn’t all that young. It’s a good reminder that you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Cas says softly, feeling Sam’s steady breathing against his back.

“Good. Try and get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay.” Cas whispers. “Thank you, Sam.”

“Anytime, Cas.” Sam yawns, already sounding half asleep again.

Cas settles back against him, tucking his head against his lumpy pillow. Across the room, Dean snorts in his sleep and Cas falls asleep, hoping he wakes before the older Winchester does so he won’t have to explain why he’s not outside in the Impala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I swear this isn't a Sastiel fic lol, I just really like Sam and Cas' friendship and always liked the idea of Sam being so much more open to being physically affectionate.  
> Now, 20 points to whoever guesses what's going to happen at the beginning of the next chapter (which will hopefully be up soon) thanks for reading! xx


	3. If I could find a way to see this straight, I'd run away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs for drug abuse, mentions of dead characters (canon), self-worth issues  
> The chapter title is from the Young the Giant song "Cough Syrup"

Castiel wakes to the sound of yelling. His eyes fly open as he sits bolt upright, every instinct screaming at him to run until he feels a hand soothingly rubbing his back - Sam’s hand.

“Hey, you’re okay.” The younger Winchester is telling him, hazel eyes full of concern. He’s sitting right in front of Cas, effectively forming a barrier between the former angel and a livid looking Dean.

Cas nods, looking over Sam’s shoulder. Dean is scowling at him, anger written so plainly across his face, that it makes Cas shrink away from him.

Sam seems to notice and glares right back at Dean. “You need to calm down, you’re acting like a psycho.”

Dean snorts. “Am I really?”

“Yes! I went out last night and asked Cas in to sleep here because it was freezing outside and you wake up and get all het up because of… what exactly?” Sam spits back.

Cas has no idea why Dean is angry but he knows that the hunter blames him. He can feel his hands shaking, and there’s no way breathing should be this hard right? Neither of the brothers are paying attention to him though, as he pulls his knees up to his chest, nails digging into his arm. He knows it’s probably not real but he can’t shake the image of a pale and bloodied Balthazar standing behind Dean, a look of betrayal on his face.

His stomach churns and roils as Dean makes a sound that is probably supposed to be a laugh but comes off bitter and cruel. “Oh you don’t think I have the right to question how long my brother has been fucking my – has been fucking Cas?”

There’s silence in the room, Dean’s words echoing between them like a thunderclap in a valley.

“Get out.” Sam orders Dean but Cas is already stumbling towards the door, barefoot and desperate to escape. He hears Sam calling his name, but he ignores him.

He doesn’t get all that far. Just to the scraggly bit of lawn on the edge of the motel car park, but it’s far enough that he can’t hear either of the Winchesters shouting after him. He falls to his knees on the brittle grass and it’s all he can do to turn his head to the side before he’s vomiting, throwing up the little he had in his stomach. He heaves and heaves until there’s only bile and spit coming out and the minute he thinks he can handle it, he swallows more pills, digging the bottle out of his pocket with violently shaking hands.

This is what he has become: a vomit soaked excuse for a human being in the parking-lot of some cheap motel, loved by no one, desperate to just disintegrate, waiting for what has been deemed his life to finally be over.

As he waits for the numbness to wash over him, he thinks of Dean’s face. Of the disgust in his expression when he thought Sam had slept with Cas. How could Castiel ever have been so stupid as to think that Dean could ever want him, ever love him, when Dean looked like that at the thought of even his brother touching Cas.

He grabs fistfuls of his hair, pulling hard enough for the pain to make that image of Dean’s disgust that’s seared in his mind, waver just a little bit. Stupid, he tells himself, stupid to think he’ll ever look at you with anything but hatred again. He starts to think about his options. He doesn’t really have anywhere to go but he hopes that maybe the brothers will at least let him retrieve his shoes if not his other belongings, before they send him on his way. He considers whether Charlie would perhaps take him in – although maybe her friendship with Dean would prevent her from doing that?

The shaking has ceased for the most part, so Cas decides he might as well see if he can go and collect his things while the pills are at their peak. He slowly gets to his feet and staggers back towards the motel.

He stops just outside of the door, carefully listening for the sounds of any more yelling but he can’t hear anything. He banks on the door being unlocked and quietly lets himself into the room. Sam and Dean are sitting on their respective beds, tension hanging thick in the air between them. Sam looks up with a relieved smile when he sees Cas, Dean just grimaces.

“Cas! I’m so glad you’re okay, you weren’t even wearing shoes when you left.” Sam says sincerely and Cas manages to offer him a small smile. Sam clears his throat and looks pointedly at Dean, who scowls but crosses the room to stand in front of Cas.

“I um, I want to apologise. I shouldn’t have said what I did. Not when – not when there wasn’t any reason for it.” Dean forces out through gritted teeth. “So, are we good?”

A stab of anger reaches Cas through the numbing haze that surrounds his mind. He doesn’t want Dean’s half-assed, insincere apology – especially when the hunter can barely look him in the eye. He wants to yell, wants to storm out, wants to slap Dean and tell him exactly how much he has hurt him.

Instead he just swallows his pain, feeling it churn in his empty stomach, and nods. “Sure.”

Dean looks surprised and Cas catches the pitying look in Sam’s eye as he marches past both of the hunters towards the bathroom.

“Cas, we leave in thirty minutes, okay?” Dean says and Cas doesn’t turn back to look at him – no matter how much he wants to.

“Whatever you say.” He throws over his shoulder, desperate to escape from the room.

He showers quickly, doing his best to avoid looking at himself. He knows he’s lost weight, that he doesn’t have the muscles that Jimmy used to, back when Cas first assumed this body as his vessel. He wonders briefly whether Dean would like him better like this, with more defined cheekbones and a sharper jawline, before reminding himself that Dean would likely only look upon him in disgust at how weak he has become.

When he has finished in the bathroom and returned to the main room, Dean is gone and Sam is sat at the tiny table, furiously typing into his phone.

“Hey Cas.” He says without looking up. “Dean’s just gone to put our bags in the car and check us out, so we’re ready when you are.”

Cas mutters a quiet agreement and pulls on a fresh set of cloths, carefully transferring his pills into his trouser pocket without Sam noticing. It isn’t much of a feat really, as the other man is still focussed on his phone.

 

Dean is quiet when they join him at the car, and Cas is grateful for his silence. He doesn’t want to have to listen to the hunter trying to make awkward, forced small-talk. Sam chatters about the new TV show that he’s started watching, and manages to get a half-laugh from Dean whenever he mentions the name since it sounds like an expletive.

Cas settles back in the backseat, sneakily dry swallows another pill – he knows he’s already had too many today, but he can’t bring himself to care – and forces his eyes shut.

He wakes to someone roughly shaking his shoulders. He sits up, gasping in cold air. It’s dark outside and Dean is leaning over him, eyes wide with what looks like concern but Cas knows that's unlikely, so he must have mistaken it for something else.

“Whu- what’s going on?” Cas asks, his head swimming and his eyes struggling to focus.

Dean looks at him incredulously. “I’ve been trying to wake you for ten minutes. We’re at the motel where we were supposed to meet Eileen.”

Cas nods. “Oh. Okay?” He still doesn’t understand Dean’s extreme reaction.

“Jesus you… you wouldn’t wake up. It’s like you were dead. Sam said not to wake you when we stopped for lunch but when you were asleep all this time I thought…” Dean stops, clenching his fists.

Cas tilts his head, ignoring the way Dean is leaning over him, so close that he could just reach out and touch – if he knew it wouldn’t be met with revulsion. “You thought what?”

Dean shakes his head. “Never mind. Sam and Eileen are waiting, let’s go.”

Cas clambers out of the Impala, following Dean across the car park of yet another motel, although this one looks a little better than the last.

Dean unlocks the door and Cas steps into the room behind him. Sam and Eileen are sat at the table and both smile at him as he surveys the room. There’s only two beds again and although they’re bigger than the last ones, he doubts Dean would want to share with him.

He lets Eileen hug him and then cautiously puts his bag down beside the door.

“I guess this means I’m sleeping outside again?” He asks, his verbal filter still impaired by the fog in his brain. Sam’s smile slides off his face so fast he looks like he’s been slapped and Eileen’s mouth drops open in shock.

“What did he just say?” She asks, her voice sharp. Cas knows he’s done something wrong, but his brain isn’t working quite fast enough to figure out what. Dean is staring at his shoes, the tips of his ears bright red, and Cas isn’t exactly sure why he’s focussing on that detail in particular.

Sam shakes his head. “No, god, of course not. Eileen and I are staying next door. You and Dean are in here. Although… I could see if they have another room just for you, if you prefer?”

Cas is so busy trying to work out why Sam looks so shocked and Eileen looks so angry that he doesn’t get to answer before Dean does.

“Maybe that would be for the best.” The hunter says and Cas can’t bring himself to look at him, even though he knows Dean is staring right at him.

Cas sniffs, trying to hold back the tears that are building up in the corners of his traitorous eyes. “Okay, well, I should go do that then. I’ve got the card you guys gave me. Eileen, it was good to see you again. I expect you’ll let me know – let me know if there’s anything I can help with. Probably not but… well. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grabs his bag and shuts the door behind him before any of the others can say something. He doesn’t want to hear their half-hearted explanations. He knows this is just another way for Dean to show him his place. He isn’t a Winchester and he shouldn’t expect to be treated like one.

The girl at the front desk has tired eyes but a kind smile and when she hands him his key, Cas thinks that if he still had his grace he would have been happy to perform a small miracle for her.

He lets himself into his room and drops his stuff, before using the last of his cash to go across to the adjacent diner and get some dinner. The smell of the sandwich he orders to-go is intoxicating and he’s gorged himself on half of it before he’s even back at his room. He finishes it, feeling hungrier than he has in days – maybe weeks – and follows it by downing three glasses of water in close succession. Neither the brothers, nor Eileen have come to see him – a part of him faintly registers that maybe it’s because they don’t have his room number – but thinking about it hurts his head. There are voices echoing somewhere in the back of his mind, hollow remnants of the heavenly host he used to hear so he digs out his pill bottle. Time to drown them out. He takes two tablets, then two more and can only just stop himself from taking more. He knows he shouldn’t but that part of him that always wants, is stronger than usual. He takes one more just to appease it, then staggers to his bed, collapsing onto it still fully dressed. He’s asleep within minutes and so deeply unconscious that he doesn’t wake from the drunken knocking at his door in the early hours of the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... how much do you guys hate me for this?  
> I swear I love Dean, but I honestly don't think him being this much of a dick is actually that OOC (of course please lmk if you think it is)  
> Finally, drug and opioid abuse is a very serious issue and not to be taken likely. There are so many resources available that can and should be used if you're struggling.
> 
> Also, props to whoever guesses Sam's new TV show obsession. To be totally honest, I'm not really sure it was out at this point in canon, but let's just pretend that it is.


	4. Never seen a door that doesn’t look like you leaving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: Drug abuse, self-worth issues  
> Chapter title from Karese Burrows' 'Poem For Your Leaving'

When Castiel wakes, it’s to bright sunlight streaming in through the streaked motel windows. The little green numbers on the TV across the room tell him it’s already past noon. It figures that neither of the Winchesters would have come to get him. He assumes they’re already out investigating. His stomach growls violently, and he feels like he hasn’t eaten in months. He didn’t undress last night so he just downs a couple more pills – too many, something inside him says, it’s too always too many now – and staggers back across the street to the diner.

“Cas!” he hears Eileen calling him just as the hostess appears to show him to a table.

“I suppose you’ll be sitting with your friends then?” she asks, and Cas can’t get his eyes to focus enough to figure out whether her smile is genuine or if she’s taunting him. He nods, but his head feels too heavy and it takes a lot of effort to drag his gaze back up and cross the room to where Eileen is sat in a booth with Sam and Dean, all three of them dressed in their FBI suits.

Eileen and Sam are naturally sat together so Cas half falls into the space next to Dean, hearing the worn vinyl on the seats squeak as he does his best not to sit too close to the hunter.

“You got our note then?” Sam asks him.

Cas frowns. “No, I was just hungry. I thought you’d have gone to interview people already.”

Eileen smiles. “No, we’ve not been up that long yet. Some of us went to bed late.” She looks pointedly at Dean and Cas risks a glance over at the hunter whose eyes look bloodshot.

“Are you ill?” Cas forces out.

Dean shakes his head, then looks like he regrets it. “Hungover.” He grunts.

Cas can feel his stomach churn. If he was out drinking it probably means Dean spent the night with some stranger again.

Sam fixes Dean with a look that’s half disapproving and half amused. “Yeah, I haven’t seen you that drunk in a while Dean. Thought you were gonna wake the whole motel searching for your room.”

Eileen laughs, having watched Sam sign everything he said. Cas realises he should probably be signing too but his arms feel like lead. Their waitress finally comes to take their orders, looking like she hasn’t had a decent meal in months, and they all order in large quantities, even Sam asking for a dish that is likely to arrive smothered in grease.

Eileen tries to make polite conversation while they wait for their lunch, but she and Sam seem particularly touchy feely and Cas can’t bear to look at them or listen to their giggling for very long, so he just stares at the cracks in the plastic table-top. Next to him, Dean’s hands keep clenching and unclenching and Cas wonders if maybe his proximity is making the hunter uncomfortable again.

The waitress eventually brings them their food and they all dig in, seemingly ravenous.

“So,” Sam says around an astoundingly large mouthful of chips. “We should split up and interview the victim’s families. See if they were acting unusual before their deaths. And maybe speak to some of the ones who survived.”

Eileen shakes her head. “Actually, there’s been another death. A man burned a hole in his oesophagus by eating boiling hot soup. Some of us should go to the morgue and some of us should talk to the surviving victims. I spoke to the jaguar guy’s wife yesterday and the lady who ‘overdosed’ on cheese only had a daughter and I spoke to her too. Both said the victims were acting normally.”

“Dibs on the morgue.” Dean says and Sam raises a questioning brow. “S’cold there. And I’ll only have to talk to a couple people. Plus the hospital smell will just make me nauseous.”

Eileen laughs. “Would serve you right for getting so drunk last night. But fine. Sam and I will go and talk to the vics that are still in hospital.”

Sam gives her a soppy smile and Cas feels his stomach twist. They haven’t mentioned him, or what he should do. Maybe they don’t think he’s capable of helping at all. He looks up from his food when he hears his name.

“Sorry?” he asks and Eileen smiles. Beside him, he hears Dean huff an annoyed sigh.

“We were saying that since you’re kind of the expert on supernatural creatures, you should go back to the motel and do some research?” She says and he nods. Of course he should stay behind. He’s no longer capable of doing anything truly helpful so he’s being told to stay away.

He no longer feels hungry, and pushes his plate away from himself. When the gaunt waitress walks past and throws him a questioning look he immediately looks away again, digging in his pocket for the comforting shape of his pill bottle.

When the others finally finish their food, he wishes them luck with their interviews and shuffles off to his room. Sam had given him a laptop when he first fell and he opens it, slowly typing the victims’ symptoms into the database Charlie had set up.

An array of possible spells pop up and he starts reading through their specifics, trying to sort out which ones aren’t possibilities. But he can’t stop thinking about Dean, about how the hunter had barely looked at him at the diner today, how he hadn’t even wanted to share a room with Cas the night before. His chest aches like it’s been cracked open and before he even realises what he’s doing he’s downed another few pills. He knows he needs to be more careful, the pharmacist had lectured him on the dangers of opioid abuse – and at this rate he was going to run out much sooner than his fake prescription allows – but every day seems to make living without the numbness harder. He tries to focus on his research, but mostly turning up nothing allows his mind to wander and by the time his laptop’s tiny clock is showing half past four, all he’s been able to rule out is that any witch – apart from perhaps Rowena – would be incapable of affecting this many people at once.

He’s just starting to nod off in his chair, when there’s three sharp raps at the door. He goes to open it, needing a couple tries, his fingers clumsy from the drugs, and sees Dean standing there, still dressed in his cheap suit.

“Um.” Cas says, unsure of what Dean wants from him.

“Hey Cas.” Dean says, very obviously forcing a casual demeanour as he steps past Cas and into the room. “Thought I’d check up on how the research is going.”

Of course, Dean is concerned about the case. “It’s… I – We can rule out witches. No human has the strength to sustain the kind of spell that is needed to do something like this. But from what I can tell, whatever it is, it’s forcing people to act on their desires – no matter the cost.”

Dean nods and sits down in Cas’ chair, leaving him to sit on his bed. “Well that’s a start I suppose. Sam called and said that another five people were hospitalised – same as the others, couldn’t help themselves.”

Cas doesn’t say anything as the hunter keeps talking about the case, instead losing himself in the light reflecting off Dean’s shiny leather shoe. “Cas!”

Castiel startles when Dean calls his name. “Sorry, what?” He asks, fixing his eyes on his trousers, trying to ignore the way he can feel the plastic of the pill container digging into his leg.

“Jesus, what the hell is going on with you, man?” Dean asks. He sounds angry and Cas doesn’t want to look up and see that confirmed on Dean’s face. He shrugs in answer, still focussing on the thin fabric of his suit trousers. “I’m serious, you’re all over the place, always zoning out. You sleep constantly and you’re basically impossible to wake up. You’re not acting like you anymore, you’re spending all your time with Sammy. So please tell me what the fuck is wrong with you, because I’m done trying to understand.”

Cas can honestly say that through all they’ve done to each other, he has never hated Dean Winchester, but in this moment, he comes pretty close. He looks up at the hunter and for a second the longing to touch him, to be held by him, is so strong he nearly throws up. Instead he gives into the anger a little. “What can I say that you haven’t already said yourself, Dean? I’m just a baby in a trenchcoat without my powers. I’m broken, but nobody cares about that, right?” Dean’s eyes look wet but Cas can’t work out why. He’s just reciting Dean’s words back to him. “Don’t ever change. You told me that too, but you also always told me the way I was is wrong, so now I’ve changed. I changed for you, gave up everything for you. I’m sorry I don’t have powers anymore. I’m sorry I’ve been practically useless, especially when I was laid up after breaking my ribs. Above all, I’m sorry that I’ve just sat around waiting for you to outright tell me I can’t stay again, when I should never have come back to the bunker in the first place.”

“Stop!” Dean says, loudly enough that they both flinch. The hunter looks pale and a little sweaty. “Fuck. I – I can’t deal with this I need a drink.”

“Don’t let me stop you.” Castiel says, crossing the room and opening the door in an effort to get him to leave, but Dean grabs his arm.

“No Cas, wait. Please.” He says and it sounds awfully close to begging except for the fact that Dean Winchester doesn’t beg. “I’m sorry.” Cas blinks, because Dean Winchester also doesn’t apologise – at least not to anyone who isn’t Sam. “I’m sorry Cas, I know I’ve been unfair to you, I just… I don’t know how to help you. I wanted to tell you so last night, but… I was drunk and I couldn’t find you and I guess you were asleep.”

Cas sags, all the fight going out of him. He just wants to take more of his pills, curl up, go to sleep and never wake up again. “It’s fine, Dean. Just… I’ll leave tomorrow, I’ll find somewhere to go and then you don’t have to worry about helping me anymore.”

Dean’s grip on his arm has tightened and he’s using it to pull Cas towards him. “No Cas. Don’t leave. I – I don’t know what’s going on, it’s this town, I just – Everything’s so broken and I don’t know how to fix this.”

Cas shakes his head, and it feels like six years ago, standing in that ring of fire all over again, when he speaks. “Dean, it’s not broken. There was never anything to break.”

Dean loosens his grip and Cas takes a step away from him. Dean’s jaw is working like he’s trying to say something and his hands are clenched like he’s trying to stop them from moving. Cas gestures to the door again and for a second Dean looks like he’s about to leave, but then he’s rushing towards Cas and the ex-angel has all the air knocked out of him when Dean pins him to the wall. One of Dean’s hands comes up to caress Cas’ cheekbone and their faces are only inches apart.

Dean breathes his name and Cas feels his heart break, because it’s the cruellest fate imaginable for him to be offered all he’s ever wanted, the thing that he longs for and it’s only because Dean is wanting sex, and that desire is being amplified by whatever is affecting the town.

Dean leans in and Cas puts his hands up to stop him. “No.” He says and Dean pulls away, although it looks like it’s a struggle for him to do so.

“I thought…” The hunter begins, but Cas interrupts him.

“Just don’t Dean. I know it’s whatever is in the air in this town, but please, just go find a girl at a bar. Don’t use me for that.”

Dean looks like he wants to speak, but Cas just slides out of the hunter’s grip and shows him the door again. For once Dean actually does as he’s asked and leaves, but not before throwing Cas one last desperate look.

Cas locks the door behind him and collapses to the floor. His whole body is shaking and he retches onto the ugly blue carpet. He strips out of his stained clothes and forces himself into the shower, trying desperately to scrub the scent of Dean from his skin, trying to rid himself from the feeling of his touch. His skin turns bright red under the hot water but Dean is still all over him and all Cas wants is for him to come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo what did you guys think of this?? I know it's sad and poor Cas, I swear I don't enjoy hurting him. Anyone got any ideas about what the creature is? Next chapter is almost completely written so it should be up soon.


	5. It’s mostly to yourself, that you lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: drug abuse, overdosing, self-worth issues, very mild dubcon (check endnotes for details so you know whether you need to skip it)  
> Chapter title from the gorgeous Noah Reid song 'Mostly To Yourself' (seriously, it's beautiful and I need you all to listen to it ASAP)

Castiel dreams that he’s an angel again. He dreams that Dean smiles at him the way he did when they found each other again in purgatory. He dreams of Dean wrapping his arms around him, pulling him close and telling him that he’s safe. That he can rest now.

 

He wakes with tears on his face and an ache in his chest that has him gasping for breath. He fumbles blindly on his nightstand, looking for his pills, instead finding his phone, buzzing with an incoming call.

“Hello?” he asks, blinking tears from his eyes.

“Cas!” Sam’s voice comes from the other end of the line. “We’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Do you want to come to breakfast?”

Cas scrubs a hand over his face. “Sorry, I was sleeping. Um, I’m not really all that hungry Sam.”

“Oh. It’s just cause you didn’t have dinner with us yesterday either. Dean said you weren’t feeling well – are you feeling better now?” Sam sounds a little put out and Cas’ stomach twists with guilt. The younger Winchester has been kind to him, he shouldn’t punish him just to avoid Dean. Besides, he owes it to Sam to tell him in person that he’s leaving.

“Um yeah I am, mostly. Maybe I can just come and keep you company.” He suggests and he can almost hear Sam smiling.

“Yeah that would be great Cas. We can exchange notes about the case! Meet us at the diner in fifteen minutes?” Sam asks, sounding far too enthusiastic for what Cas can now see is half past seven in the morning.

He agrees and hangs up, having assuaged his guilt but ratcheted his anxiety up at the thought of having to see Dean. He’s sure the hunter found someone else to satisfy his sexual desire with, but the thought of how close Cas came to being that someone hurts nonetheless. Maybe he should have just let Dean take what he wanted, then Cas would have had one memory of being with him to take wherever he goes next.

He dresses and does his best to smooth down his hair, which was practically impossible since he’d gone to bed with wet hair. He downs some pills – he doesn’t know how many, somehow he couldn’t keep track – makes it to the diner with five minutes to spare, but Sam is already there, waving eagerly. Despite the familiar fog settling over his brain, seeing Dean opposite Sam, results in a pang of longing that he only just manages to get under control. He gives in just a little, sitting next to Dean, but he tells himself it’s just so he doesn’t have to look at the hunter. He sees him anyway, and Castiel aches to see Dean looking so rough. He must have had a lot to drink the night before because he looks even worse than when Cas saw him yesterday.

“Hello.” Cas says carefully as he settles into his seat. He blinks in confusion, needing a minute to work out what’s missing. “Where’s Eileen?” He asks, struggling to enunciate properly. It was too many pills, far too many, and yet he’s still craving more.

“She’s still in the shower, she’s going to meet us here when she’s done. I was just too hungry to wait.” Sam says with a grin.

Cas nods slowly. “Right.”

Dean shifts in his seat next to Cas and he’s hit with a rolling wave of desire to touch him. He forces it down, looking up to see the same waitress they had yesterday standing beside the table. She hands Sam a plate of what looks like mostly bacon and chips, which he digs into eagerly, and holds out a truly massive steak and a cup of coffee that Dean practically snatches out of her emaciated looking hand. Cas dimly thinks that she looks like she’s lost twenty pounds in the eighteen hours since he last saw her.

“Anything for you?” She asks him, and Cas wants to say Dean. Wants to say he wants everything and that he wants nothing, because he just wants everything to stop. Instead, he just shakes his head and rubs a hand over the scarily depleted pill container in his pocket.

Sam starts talking about the case around large bites of his food, but Cas is having a hard time processing what he’s saying. All he can focus on is how much he wants to touch Dean. He can’t help but notice how Dean is angled away from him as if disgusted by Cas’ closeness. Sam continues to talk and he hears Dean grunt a couple of monosyllabic replies but the smell of Dean’s cologne is intoxicating. He unwillingly shifts closer to the hunter, ending up almost sitting on his pill bottle. The pills, he should take more pills. Except he can’t – not in front of the others.

He hears his name and looks up. Sam is staring at him expectantly and Dean is wearing an expression that looks like a cross between annoyance and concern. Cas should ask Sam to repeat his question, what he says instead is: “I’m leaving.”

Dean makes a noise that’s akin to a growl. Sam’s face twists in confusion. “I don’t understand. You only just got here.”

Cas shakes his head – the motion makes him feel a little seasick. “No, I mean I’m leaving leaving. I’m packing my stuff and I’m getting on a bus and I’m going somewhere far away.”

“But – Cas why would you leave us?” Sam looks genuinely upset, but Cas is too numb to feel guilty.

“You don’t need me, it’s been made clear. And I don’t want to stay anymore. I think it’s killing me.” Cas doesn’t know where his sudden honesty has come from, but he suspects it might be the drugs. Nothing seems to matter all that much anymore. Nothing except Dean and the way he's staring at Cas with wide, hurt eyes.

“Cas you know that’s not true.” Sam says at the same time as Dean says: “Cas this isn’t you.”

“This is me. This is who I am now.”

Dean shakes his head. “No Cas. I was trying to tell you last night. I’m sorry for making you feel this way, I am. But please, you can’t go.”

Cas gets to his feet. “No, Dean I can. I’m leaving and then I can go wherever I want. Maybe Las Vegas.” Cas feels dizzy. He just wants some more pills, wants to be close to Dean, wants to sleep, suddenly wants to eat, wants, wants, wants. “I might as well go bang a few gongs before I’m back to living on the street again. Maybe I’ll find someone out there who doesn’t care that I’m not an angel.”

Cas hears Dean’s sharp intake of breath before he’s being yanked into sitting down again.

“What?” Cas growls at him. How dare Dean stop him from finally trying to be free.

“You’re high.” Dean utters accusingly.

“What?”  Sam exclaims, choking on his bacon.

Cas struggles to stand again, but Dean’s grip on his arm feels like steel. “Let go of me. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dean glares. “Oh I think I do, you’re exactly like him.”

“Like whom?” Sam asks, looking between them as if debating whether to get involved. He must decide against it because he stuffs a handful of chips in his mouth.

“Like the Cas I saw in Zachariah’s twisted Croatoan future. The Cas who fell and was taking every drug under the sun.”

Cas scowls, subconsciously angling his right leg away from Dean, trying to keep his pills as far from the hunter as possible. “Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t do drugs.”

Sam looks on the verge of supporting Cas, but then something in his face changes and he says softly: “The painkillers. Cas, you said you hadn’t taken many of them.”

“I didn’t!” Cas insists. “I don’t understand this, Dean is the one who very clearly nearly drank himself to death last night. Why am I the one being accused of substance abuse?”

“Because you’re the one with insides like a black hole.”

They all turn to look at who spoke and even through the haze in his head Cas notices that the diner is suddenly devoid of life, with people slumped over their tables. Cas doesn’t need to be an angel – or sober – to know they’re dead. Their waitress smiles at them and Dean draws his gun with shaky hands, but Sam just continues eating. For his part, Cas knows he can no longer fight against all his urges, so he picks the least harmful and digs out his bottle of pills. He shakes out three – no it’s closer to six – and dry swallows them, gagging a little on the bitter taste, just before Dean snatches the others out of his hands.

“Who are you?” Sam asks, his voice thick, mouth still full of potato.

The waitress smiles. “You don’t recognise me? I’m not surprised, I looked a little different last time we met. I believe you met my one of my brothers only recently though. And you Dean, you killed him, didn’t you? All to remove a little scratch on your arm.”

Castiel’s brain isn’t working well enough to understand what this woman is getting at, but thankfully Sam’s seems to. He stops gorging himself long enough to speak clearly.

“Famine? But I thought… I thought you needed your ring to manifest?”

“To manifest, yes. But to possess? Well, it’s not as easy for me as it is for demons – and admittedly I burned through the vessels fairly quickly, but I still have friends. And I got my ring back.” She says, smiling and making her skin stretch tightly across her bony face as she waves the silver band in front of their faces “Not as strong as the last time we met – no, that took centuries – but strong enough to get my revenge nonetheless.”

Her smile widens and Sam starts chugging his soda, almost choking on it while trying to push greasy chips into his mouth.

“Such innocent desires this one, but you Dean Winchester, you’ve changed. Found something to crave after all?” Famine stares at Dean who has a white-knuckled grip on the table.

“Stop it.” The hunter grits out through clenched teeth.

She laughs. “Oh that is sweet, but you can’t fight me Dean Winchester. I can see inside you. I know what you want, even if you won’t admit it to yourself – or to him.” She nods at Castiel who up until that point was focussed on Dean. Suddenly he realises that Dean has dropped his painkillers onto the table. He can just reach out and take them. Everything inside him is screaming out to do just that, but Dean is staring at him, an unreadable emotion in his eyes.

“Don’t Cas.” Dean says. “You’ll kill yourself. Don’t do it.”

Famine reaches out and moves the pills a couple of inches closer to Cas. “You know you want to Castiel, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an angel want so much. You want the pills, you want family, you want Dean Winchester, you want to stop living, you just want someone to love you. You want everything, yet you have nothing. I for one, can’t wait to see what your soul tastes like, it’s so full of cravings I could smell it from miles away.”

She’s right, Cas thinks despairingly. He does want, he does need, and he has nothing. His hand moves towards the pills. Famine smiles. He’s millimetres away, so close to getting them, so close to ending this pain, this life. He pops the cap off and gets four into his mouth, but suddenly Dean lets go of the table and smacks them out of Castiel’s reach. He watches the tablets skitter across the table and onto the floor. The hand Dean used to stop him brushes Cas’ arm and the minute they make skin-on-skin contact, Dean’s fingers clamp around his wrist. The hunter is breathing heavily, and his fingers keep clenching and unclenching around Cas’ arm.

Sam is still eating, stuffing food into his mouth so quickly that Cas can hear him gagging.

“What do you want?” Cas asks, his body half in the pill-induced haze, half on fire from Dean’s touch and the desire to be near him.

Famine’s face twists into an ugly sneer. “What I want is to see you pay, to see you all suffer for what you did to me. You prevented me from fulfilling my role in the apocalypse. You nearly killed me, so now I’m going to destroy you. It will be especially sweet for you angel, to be destroyed by the one thing you loved, especially when you spent all this time denying yourself what you so easily could have had.”

“What are you talking about?” Castiel yells, at the same time as Dean shouts at her to shut up. Famine cackles, flicking a bony wrist and suddenly Cas finds himself pinned to the seat with Dean on top of him. Dean’s chest heaves as he straddles Cas’ lap, and Cas can see the fear in his eyes.

“Dean? What?” He asks, as the hunter squeezes his eyes shut. His hands are roaming over Cas’ chest like they’re exploring, while at the same time he looks like he’s trying to get away.

“I’m sorry.” He tells Cas, their faces inches apart. “I’m so sorry.” He repeats, before lowering his mouth to Cas’ neck pressing wet, open mouthed kisses to his skin.

“It’s okay.” Cas pants. “I know she’s making you, I know you don’t want this.”

Dean makes an anguished sound, but Cas sees movement over his shoulder. Sam has run out of chips and while he is licking the plate like an animal, he is also looking at Famine with a focussed look in his eyes. For her part, Famine is staring intently at Dean who is still struggling to pull himself away from Cas. She leans forward, bracing herself on the table and then Sam has Dean’s steak knife in his hand and he’s lunging towards her. Famine flicks a hand and Sam goes flying back against the window.

Dean is still raining kisses down on Cas, his fingers gently caressing his sides, hands slowly moving around to unbutton his shirt. Every few seconds he mutters an apology and Cas wants to die, wants Dean to never stop touching him and to never touch him again. Famine snaps her fingers and Cas loses any control he thought he had, arms coming up to wrap around Dean’s waist, pulling him closer.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Dean repeats as he licks the space behind Cas’ ear.

Cas hates himself for being the closest person to Dean when Famine exerted her power. “Stop.” He tells Dean. “Just stop.”

“I can’t.” Dean moans, threading his fingers through Cas’ hair.

Cas raises a hand to Dean’s face, stroking his thumb across the other man’s lips. “No I know. Stop apologising. I know you don’t want me.”

Dean looks close to tears, even though his pupils are still lust-blown. “Cas-“ he breathes, but he’s interrupted by a gunshot. Sam is on his feet again, pointing a gun at Famine, who looks down at the whole in her chest and laughs, holding onto the table to keep herself upright.

“You foolish child, you can’t hurt me with that.”

Sam smiles. “Oh I know. But she can.” And suddenly Eileen is there behind her, wielding a knife Cas recognises as Dean’s. She swings, bringing the knife down on Famine’s gaunt ring finger. Famine shrieks, falling backwards, her body crumpling to the ground in a heap, leaving only the severed finger and the ring on the table.

All of a sudden Cas feels like he can breathe again, Dean slides off him, his face bright red and while Cas misses him and the warmth of his touch, he doesn’t feel the desperate need to reach out and be with the hunter – at least no more than usual. Eileen pulls the ring off the detached finger, dropping it into a little velvet bag. Sam says something that sounds a little like ‘sorry’ before leaning over to one side and vomiting onto the floor next to the booth.

Cas on the other hand feels fine now that Dean isn’t all over him, like his pills have finally started to kick in. In fact, he feels like he’s floating. He giggles as his eyes slide, unfocussed, from one hunter to the next. He hears Dean’s voice, but it feels like it’s very far away, or underwater.

“Shit.” He hears Sam says.

“Shhhhhhhhitttttttt.” Cas slurs and then laughs.

“Cas!” Dean is shaking him and Cas really wishes he wouldn’t.

“Sssstop. This is a new vessellll.” He says, making himself laugh again. Dean’s face is right in front of his, like it was when Famine was making want Cas.  “M’sorry. Didn’t want her to make youuu. Wanted you to want to. Want you to want me. Me. Want me. You don’t want me.” He didn’t feel the urge to laugh any more.

“No Cas, no. That’s not true. Fuck. Cas, you took too many pills. You need to throw up, okay?” Dean tells him and Cas shakes his head.

“Sam threw up.”

Dean nods. “Yeah buddy, he did. You need to too.”

Cas shakes his head again, but then Dean’s fingers are in his mouth, pressing in and he gags and chokes and then he’s throwing up on Dean’s arm and all down his own shirt. He heaves and Dean rubs his back as he retches and throws up again. Dean keeps encouraging him and Cas spews until all that’s coming up is bile. He thinks Sam might be on the phone, and he thinks that maybe now isn’t the time for Sam to be doing that. He slumps onto his side and every time his eyes close Dean pats his cheek and yells something. The last thing he sees before his eyes close again and refuse to open is Dean’s terrified face above his.

 

* * *

 

_He is sitting in a foldable canvas chair at the end of a dock. The lake in front of him is crystal clear and he can see tiny fish swimming in between the waving green plants. The place seems familiar, but he can’t quite put a finger on why._

_“There you are.”_

_He turns his head and sees Dean coming towards him, two beers in his hand. The hunter looks relaxed in a way that Cas has never seen before. “Thought you were going to wait for me.” Dean says, smiling at him, before bending down to press a kiss to the corner of Cas’ mouth._

_“This isn’t real.” Cas says sadly, but he knows it’s true. Reality would never be this kind to him. Dream-Dean frowns. “What are you talking about?”_

_Cas shakes his head. “I think I’d like to wake up now.”_

_“Are you sure you don’t want to stay a little longer?” Dream-Dean asks, offering Cas one of the beers._

_Cas nods, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Of course I do, I just can’t.”_

“Cas!”

_The voice sounded like Dean, but Dream-Dean hadn’t spoken._

“Cas!”

_Cas scratches his head as the lake ripples, tiny waves forming on the surface._

“Get in here I think he’s waking up! Cas!”

 

Cas blinks in the bright light.

“Hng.” He says intelligently. His body feels like it’s been filled with lead and his tongue feels twice it’s usual size.

“Cas? Oh thank God.”

Cas turns his head to see Dean sitting in a chair next to him, most of his upper body leaning on the bed Cas seems to be in.

“D’n?” he asks and Dean smiles.

“Yeah it’s me, buddy. Can I get you anything?”

His throat feels like it’s on fire. “W’ter?” he rasps, but Dean seems to understand because Cas is being handed a cup with a straw in it. He takes several greedy sips and Dean smiles at him. “Where am I?” He asks, looking around the unfamiliar room.

“You’re in hospital. We uh – Sam called the paramedics while I was getting you to throw up. Hell of a thing to explain to them, but we managed to get you out of the diner before they showed up with the cops.”

Something moves behind Dean and Cas hears another man speak.

“There, he’s awake. Can I go now?” the person asks, moving into Cas’ line of sight.

“Turiel?” He asks, sure his mouth would drop open in shock if he had the strength.

His brother gives him a tight-lipped smile. “Hello Castiel.”

Cas turns his head to look at Dean again. “Why is he here? Is – is he working with you now?”

He doesn’t know why it hurts quite so much to think Dean replaced him so quickly – but no, he does know why. He just didn’t think it would have happened already.

Turiel snorts and Dean shakes his head. “No, Cas, god no. It’s just… you were so ill. We didn’t – we didn’t know if you were going to…” His voice breaks on the last sentence and he trails off.

“Yes, your pet humans were quite insistent that ‘one of the feathery dicks get their ass down here’ to help you – this one especially. I’ve healed your body quite extensively. Fixed your ribs, healed your liver and kidneys, and I removed all traces of your physical addiction to the pills Dean told me you had been taking.” Turiel says looking rather pleased with himself.

Cas feels tears spring to his eyes. “Thank you, brother.” He says.

Turiel bows his head. “Well it was brought to my attention that you have done rather a lot for Heaven and the universe in general over the past few years. I owed you, but I now consider that debt paid. Do not call on me again.”

Castiel nods and Turiel turns on his heel, leaving the room with only a curt nod at Dean.

Cas sinks back into his pillows and they sit in silence for a moment until Dean takes Cas’ hand.

“What are you doing?” Cas asks him and Dean’s cheeks colour, but he doesn’t let go.

“It’s come to my attention that I’ve been a terrible friend lately.”

Cas sighs, he doesn’t have the energy to fight Dean now, but he doesn’t think he can just forgive him either. “Dean it’s okay, you don’t have to-”

“Cas please, just let me say this.” Dean asks, interrupting him. Cas sighs, but nods, gesturing for Dean to continue. “I’m sorry. I said it before, but I didn’t explain why. I know it’s been hard for you, falling, becoming human. I know it didn’t seem like it, but I knew. I should have helped you then, I know that. But Cas, you gave everything up for me.”

Cas blinks rapidly, trying to pretend that he isn’t about to cry. He knows this, he did it all for Dean and at the moment hearing that Dean knew how much he was suffering hurts more than he could ever express. He shudders, when Dean reaches out and wipes away the tears running down his face.

“Cas you gave up everything for _me_ and you were hurting so badly and I felt so guilty I could barely stand to be around you. I should have been there for you, I should have noticed how bad it got with the pills and the isolation, but I thought you’d adjust eventually if I just gave you time. I know now how wrong that was, but I thought you hated me for everything that had happened.” Dean’s face is wet too and he sniffles a little before continuing, one hand still cupping Cas’ cheek. “The whole thing with the motel rooms well – I never meant to hurt you, but was jealous. I was jealous that Sam got to be so close to you because I had driven myself mad the past months trying to convince myself that I didn’t want you, slept with every girl in the state to prove that I didn’t need you. When I saw you with him, it just came crashing down on me. And the day after… how could I have shared a room with you when all I wanted to do was reach out and touch.”

Cas shakes his head, incapable of accepting what Dean seems to be saying. “But… Famine. She made you –”

“She didn’t. All she did was force me to act on what I was – what I feel.” Dean says so firmly that Cas almost believes him. “I have been in love with you for years Cas. But how could you want to be with me when it was because of me that you lost everything?”

Cas is crying in earnest now and Dean looks frantic, using his sleeves to wipe Cas’ face. “I don’t understand.” He sobs. “I thought I was alone – at times I thought you hated me. Now you’re telling me that all this time you loved me?”

Dean nods. “I do. I love you so much Cas. I don’t know how it all ended up this bad, I swear. I’d look at you and feel so guilty because everything was my fault and you must have hated me – how could you not?”

Cas shakes his head. “I never – could never. All I wanted was you, and I thought you didn’t want me.”

One of Dean’s hands slides around the back of Cas’ neck, cradling his head, gently stroking his hair. “Can you ever forgive me? Because if you still want to leave, I understand. I just – I needed to tell you before you go.”

Cas’ hand shakes as he lifts it to stroke the side of Dean’s face. “I don’t know. There’s so much to figure out and I’m so tired Dean. I’m so tired of living this way. I can’t do it again, I can’t go back to the way things were.”

“You won’t have to, things will change I promise. I’ll change, I’d do anything for you and it’s about time I showed you.” Dean says sincerely.

Cas feels exhausted, but he nods. “Okay. We can try, because I don’t think I can do this on my own.”

Dean gives him a watery smile. “Thank you, Cas. Could I – would it be alright if I hugged you?”

Cas nods and then he has six feet of hunter sprawled on top of him, arms wrapping tightly around him, one on his shoulders, one on his waist. Cas returns the hug, feeling Dean melting into the embrace.

“I’ll make things right, Cas. I promise.” Dean says into his neck and Cas just tightens his grip on the hunter and prays to his absent, holy father that somehow things will turn out right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Info to the dubcon: The being (no spoilers lol) increases Dean's desire for Cas. Cas says no because he thinks the only reason Dean would kiss him is because he's being influenced by the being - this is false because both Cas and Dean are dumbasses. It's only kissing and not even on the lips. Lmk, if I need to tag this differently.
> 
> Thoughts? Feelings? Threats?   
> Btw I am entirely aware that this whole chapter is terribly OOC for everyone except Eileen cause she's a BAMF


	6. No angels could beckon me back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: References to past drug abuse  
> Chapter title from the Troye Sivan song "Animal"

The drive from the hospital to the bunker is quiet. Dean keeps the volume on the radio uncharacteristically low and Cas pretends to sleep for most of the journey. In his head he goes over the conversation he and Dean had in the hospital, how desperate the hunter had seemed, how sincere he sounded when he told Cas that he loved him. They get back to the bunker to find a note from Sam saying that he’s been back for a change of clothes, but that he’s headed to Utah to hunt with Eileen. There’s a post-script that is addressed to Cas and simply reads: You guys need time to sort yourselves out.

Dean sort of grins nervously at Cas, when he hands him the note and announces that he’s going to make dinner. Cas nods silently and tries to figure out how to put his life back together.

When they have dinner, a thick beef stew that Dean says will put meat back on his bones, Cas does his best to make banal conversation and it seems almost like despite what Dean said in the hospital, nothing has changed. Except that when they say their goodnights, Cas gets halfway to his room before there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Dean?” He questions. The hunter’s breathing is uneven and he looks nervous.

Dean opens his mouth, closes it again, says: “I just”, before seemingly giving up on speaking and reeling Cas into a hug. Cas returns it, realising that this is the first time they’ve been this close since the hospital and its emotional confessions. Dean lets him go with a crooked smile.

“G’night, Cas. Sleep well.”

Cas returns the smile uncertainly. “Good night Dean.”

He’s still a little stunned as he changes into his pyjamas and readies himself for bed. It’s as if he can still feel Dean’s body pressed against his, the hunter’s strong arms holding him close. When he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend that Dean is there beside him.

 

When he opens his eyes, he is in hell. He is chained to a cold, rock strewn floor. All around him he hears screaming; his brothers and sisters are dying and it’s because of him. His wings are stretched out on the ground underneath him. They feel flayed raw and broken. A figure advances towards him a knife glinting in one hand. Their other hand is wrapped around a leg, they’re dragging a body. Dean’s body.

“You could have saved me Cas.” Dean says as the figure drops him next to Castiel. “Why didn’t you save me? I prayed to you.”

The figure raises the knife and plunges it into Dean’s eye. Castiel screams as Dean coughs up black blood, as he starts choking on it. Cas struggles against his bonds, screaming Dean’s name, desperate to get to him. The chains give and Cas sits bolt upright.

“Cas!”

Castiel opens his eyes and finds himself back in his bedroom. His lungs don’t seem to be taking in air properly and his blankets are twisted around his legs in a sweaty tangle of fabric. He gasps for oxygen, clawing at his sheets in an effort to free himself.

“Cas!” There’s a hand on his shoulder, someone sitting on the bed next to him. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” Dean tells him and Cas doesn’t care what the hunter might think, he just launches himself at him. He buries his face in the hunter’s chest, arms wrapped around his waist. For his part, Dean just shuffles further onto the bed, taking Cas with him, returning the embrace. A hand comes up to rest in Cas’ hair, the other settles on his back and starts rubbing up and down in a soothing rhythm.

“You’re alright Cas, I’m here. I’m here, I’ve got you.” Dean says softly as Cas sobs into his shirt. “It’ll be okay. You’re safe.”

Cas shakes his head. “It was you.” He chokes out. “We were in Hell. I didn’t – I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Dean tightens his grip on Cas. “I’m okay Cas, you got me out. You saved me, you saved all of us more times than I can count.”

“Not enough.” Cas says, gasping convulsively as he struggles in vain to calm his breathing.

Dean strokes Cas’ hair with a gentle hand. “You’ve done more than enough Cas, it’s okay, you can rest now.”

“I can’t do this anymore. I – I need my pills, I need… something. I can’t keep living like this.” Cas says, the confession spilling out of him. Despite Turiel healing him, he still feels that itch under his skin, that craving for numbness that only comes from medication. Suddenly Dean is letting go of Cas and crawling across the bed so that he’s kneeling in front of him. He grasps his shoulders, looking the ex-angel dead in the eye.

“You’ll be okay Cas. You’ll make it through this. You don’t need those pills, you’re so much stronger than that.” Dean’s voice is a little unsteady and Cas can feel the hunter’s hands shaking against his shoulders.

“I don’t – I just can’t handle the nightmares. They’re so real and…”

Dean nods. “I understand. Can you remember when… When was the last time you slept nightmare-free without the pills?”

Cas looks down at his lap. “I – um – I think I was relatively sober when Sam and I shared a bed. Back in the first motel.”

Dean visibly swallows, but nods stiffly. “Right okay.” He slides off the bed and Cas thinks he might cry again when he sees Dean hold out a hand. “Come on.” The hunter says a little impatiently. He grabs one of Cas’ hands and tugs him up and out of bed. Dean starts to lead him out of the room and Cas frowns.

“Where are we going?” He asks.

Dean sighs. “To my room. My bed is more comfortable.”

“Um.” Cas says intelligently as Dean pulls Cas into his room.

Dean lets go of his hand and throws back the bedsheets, then starts prodding Cas until he climbs into Dean’s bed. Dean slides in beside him, then arranges Cas so he’s lying down. Dean wraps his arms around Cas, whose back is pressed against his chest. Before Cas can ask what exactly is going on, Dean speaks, his voice a low rumble in Cas’ ear.

“I meant what I said Cas, whatever you need, I’m going to try my best to do for you – okay?”

“Yes.” Cas breathes, his heart speeding up as Dean presses his nose into the back of Cas’ neck.

His breath ruffles Cas’ hair when he speaks again. “Good, try and sleep, Cas.”

 

Cas wakes up feeling well-rested but without the fog that usually accompanies a full night’s sleep aided by his pills. He’s also really warm, covered by something heavy that feels nothing like his duvet. He shoves the thing off and it grunts when it hits the floor.

“Cas?” Dean asks and Cas turns to see Dean blinking blearily from the ground next to the bed.

Cas colours, realising that he’s just kicked the hunter out of his own bed. “Shit, I’m sorry. I uh – I need to urinate.” He says, scooting out of bed and hurrying towards the door.

“Cas wait, it’s okay –“ He hears Dean say, just as he stumbles into the hallway, but it’s too late to go back so he heads to the bathroom just like he said he was.

 

Breakfast is awkward, worse than dinner the night before. Cas is embarrassed and grateful at the same time. He doesn’t know how to ask Dean to repeat what he did last night, because it actually worked, it kept the nightmares away.

Dean thankfully leaves Cas to eat his eggs in silence. When they’ve both finished eating Dean puts their plates beside the sink and holds out his hand to Cas, just like he had the night before.

“C’mon, I need to do some work on Baby, why don’t you help me?” He asks gently. Castiel should refuse. Dean has already done so much for him, bargained with angels and fought off Cas’ personal demons, he shouldn’t have to spend so much time with Cas on top of that. And yet, Dean’s eyes are soft – just like they were in the hospital, when he was telling Cas that he needed him, that he loved him.

Maybe Dean does want him there, not out of obligation, but because he wants to be around Castiel.

Dean is looking unsure now, ready to withdraw his hand, so Cas grabs it – maybe a little too hard, because Dean winces and then grins at him before leading the way towards the garage.

 

It’s a nice day. Cas doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s had one of those, but it really is nice. Dean brings up his portable radio and tunes it to a classic rock station, singing along while his whole head and most of his upper body are stuck under Baby's hood. More than that, he talks to Cas the way he used to every now and then when he and Sam took a day off from hunting and Castiel wasn’t too busy in Heaven. They talk about films Cas still needs to watch, about Sam’s relationship with Eileen, about maybe taking Baby and going on a road trip when Sam returns. Cas only reaches into his pocket for the non-existent pills twice. The habit still ingrained in him, but for once he doesn't feel the fishhook anchored in his stomach and a desperate need to take something to make it go away.

He finds himself smiling more and more as Dean teases him for not knowing the tools he’s asking for, and when Dean’s stomach starts rumbling loudly he laughs at Dean's declaration that he’ll make Cas the best bacon sandwich he’ll ever have.

Dean is halfway to the kitchen when Cas is struck by the need to touch him. It’s not like when Famine was controlling them – a burning desire that was amplified until it threatened to devour them both – it’s softer, gentle. Dean is chattering about how he bought the bacon from a butcher in town and how it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted when Cas puts a hand on his shoulder, in the exact spot that used to bear his mark, stopping him in his tracks.

Dean grimaces. “Sorry, you’re still recovering and here I am dragging you all over the bunker and talking your ear off.”

“It’s okay.” Cas says softly and Dean smiles, although he doesn’t look convinced. “Did you mean it?”

Dean frowns. “Mean what?”

“All of it. The hospital. Last night.”

Dean’s hand comes up to cradle Cas’ cheek. Cas can feel his thumb brushing against the stubble that he really ought to take care of. “Of course I meant it.”

Cas nods, he could just accept that and let it be enough, but he has to know, has to ask. “And you’re sure? About me?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” Dean says earnestly.

“Even if… even if I never recover properly, if I have nightmares every night and spend my days trying not to take the pills and can’t remember to eat or shave or to cut my hair?”

Dean blinks, looking a little as if he might laugh at the last part, but when he speaks he looks deathly serious. “I’ve been taking care of Sam my whole life, and while I love him – of course I do, he’s my brother – a lot of that was because I felt obligated. It’s what was expected of me and so I continued to look after him, even when I should have just let him live his life. But you? Cas, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything. The fact that you’re still standing here, talking to me, letting me touch you after everything I did to you? It’s a goddamn miracle and I won’t ever take it for granted. If you need me to share your bed, to help you keep your mind off the pills, or remind you to eat or whatever else, I’ll do it and it'll be a privilege. And if you ask me to take a step back, to leave you be or –“ Dean chokes a little, as if he’s holding back tears. “If you ask me to let you go, I’ll do it. Because I learned that I can’t just sit and want you and never do anything about it – it just ends up hurting both of us. I love you Cas, and I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you if you’ll let me.”

Cas feels a little stunned, looking at Dean right now is almost like looking into the sun, because Cas can see the love he had spoken of written so clearly across the hunter’s face. It’s so bright that it doesn’t seem real, but Cas knows it must be. As an angel he knew what he can see now – that Dean Winchester, despite all his flaws and failings, has the brightest soul Cas has ever seen.

He doesn’t say anything, just uses the hand still resting on Dean’s shoulder to reel him in. He crashes their mouths together in a kiss that he feels like he’s spent centuries building up to – and in a way he has. He has fought and been broken and put back together and lived and died for so many years, so many lifetimes and all of it has led him here, to Dean winding one hand in Cas’ hair and the other around his waist.

“I love you. I’m sorry.” Dean gasps, when they break apart for air.

Cas can’t let go of him, can’t look away. “I know. I love you too.” He says and sees that soul shining through Dean’s eyes almost as clearly as he had when he was angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo I finally finished.... hope you guys aren't too disappointed with the ending, I kind of lost the will to write but I'm glad I didn't leave this open, that's just not my thing at all.  
> Lmk what you thought about this, either here or on [tumblr](https://hefellfordean.tumblr.com/ask) (@hefellfordean)!   
> Thanks to everyone who stuck around to read this!

**Author's Note:**

> So I know I'm totally supposed to be finishing How The Light Gets In and I swear I'm working on it, I just couldn't get this out of my head. I don't expect it to be super long so hopefully this story will only be around five chapters, but we'll see.  
> Leave kudos/ a comment if you loved/hated/have never read anything worse than this and thanks for reading xxx


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